In the Cemetery
by Author Name Changed
Summary: This is not an odd idea. This is too freaky to be simply an odd idea. It rather seems like something taken out of the surrealistic stories. Hermione, an old car, a cemetery, full moon, gypsy Snape… One shot. SSHG


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Neither does Jo Rowling own this. Trust me, she would deny it even if she did.

Summary: This is not an odd idea. This is too freaky to be simply an odd idea. It rather seems like something taken out of the surrealistic stories. Hermione, an old car, a cemetery, full moon, gypsy Snape… One shot. SS/HG

AN: Do not flame me, telling me it's AU and OoC. I know it is.

In the Cemetery

Hermione Granger had no idea how she managed to end up in the cemetery… She just remembered running away from her house, where her parents were fighting again. She hated the fights. She hated them. And she never wanted to return. The two hadn't even noticed her go out. They wouldn't have let her, if they'd noticed. And they'd have screamed at her for being in the cemetery at that time of night. And they would have been right. it wasn't a place for sixteen year-old girls to be in at midnight.

She walked between the graves, sobbing, feeling cold. She wished she'd had a friend to be there for her. Anybody. The boy next door, Ronald Weasley. Or that friend from school, Harry Potter. But they weren't there. They were probably sleeping. And she was alone, and cold. And they wouldn't have understood, anyway.

She saw a grave that looked more special than the others, a large stone covering the remains of Jules and Keyleigh O'Rayen, who'd died five years ago. Feeling odd, she reached for the letters scribbled in the stone and fingered them. Keyleigh O'Rayen…

Without realizing it, she climbed on top of the stone, her knees touching the cold, hard surface… Why was she wearing a dress? Why couldn't she have changed? It was so cold… And yet she gathered herself on the hard stone, fingering the two names, for some odd reason fascinated with them, although there was nothing special there. She looked up to the sky, at the nearly full moon and shivered, forgetting the names and sitting there, perched on top of the grave, staring at the night sky. A tree looked somehow unnatural against the silver light, as if some painter had drawn it there with a brush. How odd…

And then she noticed somebody coming towards her, a tall man dressed in black and white clothes and wearing a black hat… a gypsy! She trembled and pushed herself against the grave, willing herself to disappear, to be unnoticed. The man walked under the moonlight in silence, seeming to be somehow unnatural himself, fitting with the scenery, the graves, the near-full moon, the dark tree… Was he real? or a ghost?

He walked toward where she was and her breathing became shallow with fright. She didn't want to be noticed. She wanted him to go away… But he raised his head and saw her and she realized he would be coming towards her. She tried to make herself small, feeling frightened like a small animal that's about to be taken in the arms of a human, wondering if she'd be hurt or cared for.

He walked towards her, his dark eyes shining under the large, black hat… His face was pale, unlike any other gypsy's she'd ever seen. He looked like a spirit, like a thing that walked with Death herself… And he came towards her, neither slowly, nor quick, just walking. She curled into a ball on the grave and he finally reached her and bowed low, his face very close to hers. He looked at her like an Angel of Death and she wondered if he would kill her or hug her or kiss her… or maybe all at the same time.

"How old are you?" he asked and his voice was like the wind against the branches of a tree.

"Six-sixteen" she mumbled, scared, expecting his reply. His eyes widened and shone for a moment, but then they returned to normal. He picked her up from the grave and she hung on to him. His hands were cold, too. Maybe he was a spirit of Death. And she was scared, and cold and confused as she'd never been, but for some reason, she didn't want to leave him, she wanted to be with him, even if he would do awful things to her.

He carried her between the graves and she pressed her face against him, feeling some warmth at last. For what reason, she didn't know, but she trusted him… even if he'd kill her. Maybe he was a vampire. This trust, it wasn't natural, she knew. But she couldn't help it. Was it magic?…

They reached a part of the cemetery where she'd never been before and there she saw a limousine that seemed old… there were scratches on it, and dirt and the tires were flat. He took her to the place and opened a door and entered it with her in his arms. It seemed as if the inside of the car was larger than the outside, and the floor was covered with a thick carpet, the like of which she'd never seen before.

And it was warm in there, like it wasn't outside. She lied down on the carpet, letting the warmth enter her body, letting it crawl pleasantly into it. She rested her head on her arm and watched the man who was lying down next to her. It was warm… no more cold. And no yelling…

"What are you?" she asked, a part of her mind telling her that it was a rude thing to ask, but the other part knowing it was the real question.

"I am" he answered "what I am."

"That isn't an answer" she whispered and he crawled over to her and touched her, caressed her from the shoulder down, slowly.

"Then would you like to know me?" he asked and she stared at him, half-fearing hims still, half-trusting, half-willing, half-not. Maybe it would be a mistake, maybe not.

"I would" she answered, staring at the pale man with strange black eyes that seemed to glow. He was odd, and fascinating and she wanted to know…

His hand kept going lower, caressing her hip, her leg… and then slipping under her dress and up her leg, making her heart jump in fright. But it was all so calm and quiet… nothing hurt her… his dark eyes shined and his lips parted, but his hand did not hurry… it reached her underpants and slowly started pulling them down… but his eyes stayed locked with her own, calming her, no, fascinating her, making her unable to protest. He removed them completely and she remained there, feeling somehow expecting and exposed.

"You have never been with a man," he said, and it was not a question.

"No."

It was all a mistake, she knew it. But she couldn't stop him. She couldn't stop herself. What was he?… He had her enslaved and it was not natural. And in a way, it felt so right…

His hand returned, moving up her leg and she felt her breath start to rasp… why?… he hadn't done much… She couldn't move her eyes, her gaze was locked with his and she waited, feeling that it would take too long, and too little for him to reach up again. She wanted it and yet she didn't… she wanted to shift, but she didn't know if to make way for him or to get away from him. She knew that if she'd tell him to stop, he would, but would she be able to? So odd… so strange.

His hand reached her and started caressing her, making her breath even more raggedly.

"You are very wet," he said.

"Yes," she answered and shifted so he could reach her better. She should not have done that… But his hand continued just as before, as if he hadn't noticed her. "Please…" she whispered, wondering what she was begging for. But he made no sign that he'd heard her. It felt… it felt like… it felt like nothing she'd known before, and yet she seemed to remember the feeling. And she knew, she could feel that she wanted him.

He entered her with a finger and she gasped, closing her eyes for a second before opening them again. His eyes were shining more than before, the only sign that what he was doing had any effect on him. And his finger did wonderous things, making her moan more than once and shift slightly. When she finally closed her eyes, unable to keep them open anymore, his finger slipped out. But she could still feel everything… it was as if she couldn't move right, that her limbs were somehow limp, her head was swarming and the feeling she had curled up in her chest, in her stomach, in her entire body, making her feel as if she was liquid… and it was so full of pleasure that she almost couldn't stand it. She moaned and grabbed the carpet, balling it up in her fists. When the feeling subsided, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her, taking his hat off and letting his black hair fall around his face. She reached out and touched it, feeling it silky in her fingers. He unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down.

Her eyes widened in fear as she saw him half-naked and she gathered against the door of the limousine. What he wanted was obvious, but she was so afraid of letting him in her… he was big and that alone made her fear. But her eyes somehow moved up to his face again and again her gaze locked with his.

"Don't hurt me," she whispered. He didn't answer, just got closer to her and she gasped in fear, afraid that he would jump on her and hurt her. But instead, his hand gently caught her own and led it down to him. She touched him almost fearfully, barely with a finger at first, but he insisted and she nervously took him in her hand. After a short while, she started feeling him curiously, wondering what she should do. He pumped slowly in her hand and she looked at him worried, wondering what would happen.

And then he kissed her. She remembered kisses from some boys, but they hadn't been too good about it. But this man… he kissed diferently. He didn't grab one of his lips, but traced the lines of her lips with his tongue. She opened her mouth under his and his tongue slid inside, touching the top of her mouth. She started replying in an awkward way, feeling every bit of her lack of experience show.

"I want you to kiss me," he whispered.

"I'm trying to," she said, feeling awful.

"No…" he answered and a soft smile appeared on his lips. His hand rested on her shoulder for a moment before pushing her down. She stared at him, not understanding until he pushed her again, harder. And then she got it.

Feeling very odd, she lowered herself, until she was face to face with his dick. Slowly, wondering what she should do, wondering if she should do it even if she figured it out, she opened her mouth and took him in her mouth. His hands guided her, so she realized soon enough how she had to move. He'd rolled on his back at some point and was guiding her up and down. Whenever she'd get up to close her mouth for a moment or to breathe better, she could see his eyes looking deep into her own, wide and glowing unnaturally. She was starting to understand through his hands how to do this, what felt well and what not and for a reason she couldn't understand, she decided she liked it. She started playing, seeing how far he could let him in her, then retreat again, to breath, then go down again, gently sucking, or simply moving, playing with the tip…

When he finally dragged her up again, she was feeling different somehow, maybe more secure, more safe, though why, she couldn't figure. He kissed her deeply, passionately and rolled them both so she was lying against the thick, wonderful carpet. He gently nibbled at her neck and she moaned. He was leading himself against her, almost entering and she gasped in pain as he started entering. He shushed her, but entered slowly, torturously and she cried out, before the pain disappeared and she could see straight again. And he was in her… she was amased.

It was then that he started moving, slowly, making her moan, kissing her shoulders with tenderness she'd never known before. The wonderful feeling she'd experienced when his finger had entered her was back, only much more powerful and she held the man to her chest, realizing suddenly she did not even know his name, nor did he know her own. What was she doing?… It didn't matter.

She pushed all thoughts away from her and gave in to him, to the feeling… He made a sudden movement and she cried out in pleasure, feeling it shoot up her spine. It was like a fire that was crawling in her, burning not warm but pleasureful, brighter and brighter every second. She wanted to laugh at the feeling… she'd closed her eyes and she laughed, feeling free and full of light like never before. And the most unusual thing happened: he laughed with her. It was like flying, she felt light and beautiful and perfect. And with every thrust, it was becoming even more beautiful, even greater. Her eyes had cleared as if she'd been sleeping before and wasn't now. She reached up and kissed him…

It was long before he slid out of her and she stared in wonder at him, remembering that men were supposed to cum, that they weren't supposed to remain just as hard as at the beginning.

"I don't know what you are," she whispered, "but you are wonderful."

"And you are beautiful," he replied, his eyes dancing.

How odd, to have feared him. Now she didn't want him away. Was she falling for him? But who was he? _What_ was he?

"I should go, my parents probably worry," she whispered, begging him with her eyes to take her away.

"It is near morning. You can stay a bit more," he answered, his face suddenly turning unreadable.

"Morning?" she whispered in awe.

"Morning," he replied with a curt nod. "I am not a normal man, Hermione."

She stared at him curiously, something nagging her, but she wasn't able to tell what exactly.

"Go to sleep," he muttered.

"I'm not sleepy."

"You will be, when you close your eyes."

She did indeed close her eyes, just to prove him wrong, but she didn't manage to open them again… and fell asleep before she could know it.

Hermione shivered with cold and she reached for her blanket, before she realized that she didn't have it. She opened her eyes widely and with fear. She was on a stone on top of a grave and she gasped. The names she could read were Jules and Keyleigh O'Rayen. She jumped to her feet, noticing that she was dressed precisely as last night, wearing a dress and a jacket and… but she'd undressed when she'd been with… what was his name! She never asked! Where was he! Why was she here?

She jumped off the grave and ran towards where he had taken her in his arms, but couldn't find the place. She ran left and right in desperation, but could find nothing, not the part of the cemetery, not the old, ragged limousine, not nothing. She did, however, run into the cemetery caretaker, who was a likeable old man.

"Excuse me," she said to him and he raised his head curiously.

"Yes?"

"Where's the old limousine?" she asked.

"What old limousine?" he replied and those words sent a shive up her spine.

"The old limousine… old, dirty, in no condition to function, it couldn't have disappeared!"

"There's no limousine here…" the old man replied, looking at her in surprise. "This is not a car graveyard!"

"I know, but I ran into it last night!" she pleaded.

"You couldn't have, since it isn't here," he said. "But maybe outside the cemetery? Did you look there?"

"No, but… Thank you," she said helplessly. "Sorry to be a bother."

"Now don't you worry. Go home, child, you seem to be cold. No need to catch some bug, is there?" he asked.

"No, no, there isn't. Thank you again. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye!"

Hermione turned his back on him and walked towards the exit, feeling indeed cold and confused, even more so than last night. But what happened? The man… the car… them, on the carpet, making love… She couldn't have dreamed, could she? Oh, but she so remembered! She couldn't have dreamed! How could she check if she was a virgin? That would solve her dilemma as to whether it had happened or not! But she couldn't, she simply couldn't have fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing… could she?

She got out of the cemetery and walked down the street, feeling herself close to tears. She finally reached home and entered. Her parents were there with a police officer and she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the, as they did when they saw her.

"Oh, Hermione!" her mother cried and jumped to hug her. "We noticed you were gone and we were afraid something dreadful had happened to you!"

"No, I just ran away… couldn't stand the screaming…" she whispered, wondering what had happened afterwards, but her mother mistook her silence for a different one and she gathered her in her arms again, swearing to never fight like that again with her father and promising all would be well… Hermione was shocked, but couldn't find anything to say.

"But where were you?" Mr. Granger asked.

"I was…" Hermione muttered and gathered her voice. "I was in the cemetery. I fell asleep on a grave."

"You what!" her mother cried. "Oh, my poor baby!"

'_I just wonder if I did indeed sleep with whomever that man was' _Hermione thought to herself.

"That was very dangerous," the policeman said, sounding worried himself. "Now, I'm not the one to believe in odd stories, but they say that there's some kind of a spirit lurking out there that does strange things to people. Obviously, there might be a few people to wander about through the cemetery at night and no telling what they might do."

Hermione stared at him.

"What spirit?" she asked sharply.

"Oh, it's a silly story that some old people came up with," the policeman laughed. "No doubt to explain some coincidences and to give a more supernatural explanation to disappearings and odd happenings than the obvious one. But they can't decide upon a version of the story, just that there's a spirit there that does strange things, maybe to help people in a way nobody understands."

"Aha," she whispered. "Ok… I'll go to my room now. Sorry I caused so much trouble."

"Glad to see you're alright," the policeman replied.

Hermione walked to her room and there she took her jacket off and almost put it on the chair, before a crazy idea came to her mind and she searched the pockets, hoping beyond hope that she'd find something. And she _did_ find something.

It was a piece of old, yellowed paper on which a few words were written in black ink, but those few words made her smile in great happiness.

"We will meet again, Hermione Granger…"

And along with the paper she noticed there was something else… a silver ring with a dark stone that she put in her jewelry box before collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

When she next woke up, the paper was gone, having flown through the open window. But the ring was still there and she kept it on her finger from then on…

Unfortunately, she never knew that on the back of the paper, there were other words written.

"On the day you die."


End file.
